On our last day of vacation, storms came through and completely changed the shape of the shore. My youngest, being curious about anything that he doesn’t yet understand, was drawn to it. So we went for a walk. It was breathtaking. Tide pools, sea foam skittering across the wet sand, the angry waves, the strong wind, mini rivers barreling over channels that had been cut into the sand by the powerful tide… I drank deep of it. And it struck me how even there—amongst the chaos of storm’s aftermath—I still felt a sense of peaceful wonder deep in my spirit.
I’ve never been great with change. I crave it and I hate it all at the same time. I’m pretty much always a mess, wanting things to be different, but resenting it when they are…
This fall our family is facing some major changes, and I’m wrestling with the fear, the excitement, the hope and the dread all swirling at once. And as I try to come to terms with just existing in this dissonance, I can’t help thinking back to that stormy morning on Emerald Isle, walking barefoot with my youngest. Despite the chaos of the shore that morning, we were excited to see what lay ahead as we sunk our toes in the wet sand, feeling awe at Mother’s power all around, the warmth of the ocean, the wetness of the wind, the immense beauty of it all… and that feeling of peaceful wonder deep in my spirit, that I get to be here in this life, breathing it all in.